


Can't Get It Out Of My Head

by The_Fanfic_Mormon



Category: Gravity Falls, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Crossover, Dream Demon, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Manipulative Bill Cipher, One Shot, Revenge, Triangle Bill Cipher, but i like it as a one shot for now, might have more chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23324182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fanfic_Mormon/pseuds/The_Fanfic_Mormon
Summary: Eleven meets an unexpected presence in the Void.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Can't Get It Out Of My Head

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short idea that came to me. Simple, neat, interesting, and room to grow should I want it to. Enjoy.

Darkness.

It’s the only word Eleven knows that accurately describes the Void. Granted, she’s aware that her knowledge of words is still limited. But there’s still a difference between dark when the sun goes down, and the sheer lack of _anything_ that defined this space.

She runs a hand through her hair, slim fingers maneuvering their way through wispy curls. The smell of the bus lingers on the fuzz of her jacket, and she startles as the smell drifts into her nose. She fans the musty odor a little, a diagram of the nasal cavity appearing in her head. Lesson’s from Hopper, she thinks, and that makes her feel a little better.

Still, she shouldn’t be able to smell. The sting of salt from the gym, where she was tasked with finding Will, didn’t follow her into the void. Neither did the sterile taste of the water from the lab. As she walks, seemingly going nowhere, the silence begins to feel odd as well. There’s the light splashing of her shoes against the… floor? Ground? It doesn’t feel like there’s a word to describe the shallow covering of water that seemingly has nothing underneath it.

She shakes her head a little to get herself back to the observation. There’s always a reason she enters the Void. There’s always something to hear, some scene to observe. But the quiet _feels_ loud. That doesn’t make sense, she knows. Yet how else can she put it? It’s as if the lack of noise is a noise itself, a faint background murmur that she can’t pin down.

Eleven stops suddenly, sending dark ripples through the nothingness. The air in here doesn’t even seem right. The Void has always been cold, like a chilly fall night. It feels much too warm, almost… what’s the word again?

“Humid?”

Her eyes go as wide as they can, hairs standing on end, as the word echoes around her. It knew what she was thinking. What knew? _How_?

In the blink of an eye, blue fire bursts from the water’s surface, making a neat circle around her. Some dim part of her is saying that this shouldn’t be possible, that fire and water can’t mix, but all she can do is panic. There’s a weight on her mind, like some presence is crushing her, and she can’t even form thoughts as she whirls around frantically, looking for whatever is causing this.

Suddenly, an eye appears in front of her. Eleven stops looking around, focusing on the thing in front of her. It’s got three neat eyelashes, and the middle bit isn’t a circle like it is with people, it’s a black line.

“Glad you think they’re neat, kid!” The voice speaks up again, clearly coming from the eye. In a shimmering motion, something yellow expands from all sides of it, smoothing out into a triangle. A burst of white makes her shield her eyes. When she looks back, the thing has thin black arms and legs. Two smaller black triangles, tips touching, lie underneath the eye. It places a finger to its upper point, and what she thinks is a black hat springs into existence.

“Hiya, waffles!” The voice is grating, but it sounds… fake. Slightly garbled and tinny, almost like the ones from the machines in the lab. The whole thing pulses slightly as it speaks.

It rubs underneath its eye like it has a chin. “Or maybe lab rat? Blood clot?” It lets out a chuckle. “You’re all new territory! You’re not even on the wheel. We have to get you a symbol!” It starts to float in lazy circles around her, slow enough that even in shock, she still turns to hold eye contact.

“Wh-what are you. Doing here?” She hates how broken her words sound. Eleven wants to sound tough, to tell this thing to get out. But curiosity and revulsion make war in her mind, leaving her a stuttering mess.

“Lab rat! That’s probably the best one. Anyway, dumb question! I’m a dream demon. Space like this is to me what an icy cave is to a shoggoth!” It laughs again, longer this time. “Better question is, what’re _YOU_ doing here?” The eye bulges as it addresses her, the triangle flashing red briefly.

She flinches, backpedaling until she can feel the heat of the fiery circle. She wants- she _needs_ \- to wake up. She closes her eyes, tries to slow her pounding, and even slams a fist into her side in an attempt to spark pain. Nothing works. Her eyes open slowly to see the thing staring at her, clearly bored. She’s not sure how she knows this. It doesn’t have a f-

“I know, kid. I don’t have a face. Even so, ain’t my mug a beauty? Not like you insignificant face-havers can do this!” He tips his hat, reaches in, and tosses something at her. Eleven catches it, and after a second, realizes it’s the head of something. A rabbit, she thinks it’s called. How did it do that? Did it have it in there the whole time? Why would it give it to her? She drops it, intending to kick it away, but it shatters like glass, causing her to jump a little.

“Tough kid, huh…” It sounds disappointed for a second, before the annoying cheer comes back. “I _suppose_ I should introduce myself. The name’s Bill Cipher! Call me Bill. If you need a dream demon, I’m the best man- triangle, really- for the job!”

“Bill.” She tests the sound of _his_ name in her mouth. “Why are you here?” His lower eye lid curves upwards, and she can instinctively tell that he’s smiling. “Straight to the point, huh? I like it! The last two kids I dealt with… well, let’s just say they WASTED A LOT OF MY TIME.” His voice gets deep, and she can almost feel the anger rolling of him. After a second, Bill relaxes, dropping down to hover at eye level.

“Tell me about yourself, lab rat!” Eleven begins to think of what should say to this still-mysterious being, but he waves a hand dismissively. “Kidding! I already know.” Images flicker quickly by on his body. The lab, Mike and his friends, the Demagorgon, the Upside-down, Hopper, Momma, and visions of a long-lost sister. Her entire life story in a couple seconds.

“You’ve had a rough go of life.” For some reason, his voice never strays far beyond cheerfulness. It’s off-putting, and even more so that he seems to know what she’s thinking. “Tortured in a lab for most of your life, then instantly became attached to the first snot-nosed brat you meet after disturbing a monster from another dimension, then you lost the brat, only to be stowed away in an alcoholic’s cabin while he lies to you about your past. Sounds like a blast, honest!” Bill shakes for a moment, like he’s shaking a nonexistent head. “And what do I happen upon you doing? Finding a sister who probably doesn’t remember or care about you? Some long lost dream of _family_? Lab rat, I’m a fairly nice polygonal entity, but even I have to admit that what you’re doing is pathetic!”

The glee never leaves his voice. She wants to be angry at him, for insulting her goals, but how can she? He’s right. She never was someone who thought her choices through. Her family is Mike and his friends, who she can’t see because of the Bad Men, or Hopper, who refused to let her know the truth to try and protect her, or a mom with a jumbled mind, or a long-lost sister who she just learned existed. She doesn’t have _anyone_ , does she? Eleven is alone, like she always was.

“Now, now, quit moping kid. Your new friend Bill is here to give you something none of those other meatbags could provide.” The circle of flames flares higher as a single word echoes through the Void.

“Payback.”

“What d-do you mean?”

She knows what the word means. It was one that Hopper had taught her, one of many that he’d use and she’d stop to ask about. “It’s when you hurt someone who’s hurt you,” he’d said, pausing for a moment to scratch the stubble on his neck. “It’s not a good thing, kiddo. It really messes with your mind. Focus on staying happy.” He’d planted a heavy hand on her shoulder and sighed. Despite his advice, there was something nice about the word. Something _fair_.

“You’ve gone through a whole lot of pain. I’m trillions of years old, and even I’m impressed! Most fleshies just tend to go crazy. But lab rat, you’ve got moxie, and that’s why I want to help.” Thin black fingers snap together, and suddenly both she and the triangle are sitting in chairs facing each other, like the one at Mike’s but without the part that lifts your legs.

“That scientist- you call him Papa? What an adorable name. Didn’t know fathers used their daughters as experimental military assets! Great parenting advice!” Another snap, and he’s wearing a stethoscope, an impossibly long cord stretched to meet her head.

“You’ve got rage. Tons of it! And it while it makes those powers of yours stronger, it’s also scary to let that anger take over. I’m here to tell you to use it! Use that feeling to crush the horrible people who ruined your life! Namely, that dear old doctor of yours.” The stethoscope disappears without a trace.

Bill’s sort of right. Papa caused all of this. And everyone who was with him too. And not an hour goes by where her absolute hatred of them doesn’t make itself know. If she could find them, make them _pay_ for what they did… she’d be safe. Mike and Dustin and Lucas and Will would all be safe. Hopper wouldn’t have to lie to protect her. No bad men with guns to hunt them down.

The triangle leans forward in his seat, as if sensing her train of thought. “So let’s make a _DEAL_.” The ring of blue flame flares up at the word, but Eleven is too focused on Bill to care. “You need help with all that power. So I’ll graciously take the burden of being not only your pal, but you mentor as well. I’ll even help you track down the thugs that tortured you and your scrambled-brained mom, as a bonus!” Bill laughs a little, eye contracting in sync with the noise.

“You’ll help me get rid. Of the bad men? W-what do you want?” Eleven knows what a deal is. It’s like half-way happy, except both people get a good thing out of it instead.

Bill rolls his eye. “Geez lab rat, I’m getting there! You just have to allow me access to that head of yours. That way, I can pipe up and give you some pointers. I’ll just be a friendly voice in the back of your brain! I just want to help someone in need.”

The chairs disappear, Eleven barely managing to catch herself from falling. He floats closer, extending a hand wreathed in blue fire. “What do you say, kid?” There’s a hunger in his eye, one she can’t put a name to. She reaches her hand out a little, than pauses. Some small part of her is suspicious. This whole situation feels off. Not wrong, just strange. Like this meeting should have never happened. Like the being in front of her shouldn’t exist. And the generosity feels almost fake, like he never really answered her question at all.

But then all she can see is Papa’s face, guards landing kicks, electric shocks to her mother’s head. The memories are intense, coming up so fiercely that she almost flinches. And with them comes the sheer _hate_ she has, for everyone who decided to make her life horrible.

Without hesitation, her hand closes the gap, clasping onto Bill’s with an intensity that makes the triangle smile in his own weird way. The flame from his hand captures hers, and though it doesn’t hurt, the way it flares up blinds her. Bill starts laughing, a cackle that seems to swallow the world in conjunction with the light. When she lunges awake, nearly hitting her head on the seat in front of her, she can still hear the remnants it fading away.

The bus is quiet. She glances around, seeing only a couple of passengers ahead of her. The rush of adrenaline begins to slide away. She can feel her heart begin to slow.

Eleven can’t figure out what just happened. Was it a dream? The situation felt way too… _real_. She’s sweating heavily, and there’s the taste of copper on her tongue. Blood.

It’s when she wipes over the red oozing out of her nose that she notices something’s off. On her crimson-stained hand, a triangle is present on its back. It glows a faint blue, like there’s a flashlight underneath it.

“Not just a dream…” she mutters, awestruck as she rubs a thumb over the shape. “Nope!” Bill’s harsh voice invades her mind. “I think you made a good choice, lab rat.” She jolts a little at the noise, but she’s less surprised than she should be. It always felt too real to just be a figment of her imagination.

“So what do I do?”

“Get off the bus at the next stop. We’re going to start with a low level grunt, then work our way up to your scientist.” Anticipation floods her system. She’s really doing this. Her thoughts briefly flash back to Hopper, to the sister with chocolate skin and tight braids. But the excitement of what comes next is overwhelming. She’s going to see Papa again. This time, she’ll _make_ him understand what pain means.

“That’s right kid.” The voice chuckles briefly. “Stick with me, and I’ll make _all_ your dreams come true!”


End file.
